Use Somebody
by Sunlight-Scars
Summary: An exploration of sex, love, and the depth of emotion. A Slytherin girl fuels the hate and rivalry between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1

Use Somebody

Disclaimer: Of course, I do not own any characters, places, or anything else from the _Harry Potter _series.

A/N: Well, I honestly can't tell you where this fic came from. My original intention was to write a Harry/OFC but somewhere in the planning period for the story I ended up obsessed with Draco and this became more about him (though Harry should still play a somewhat significant role a bit later), and it became much more of a love story than I really wanted. The new concept seemed to have a mind of its own and ran off without me, leaving me struggling just to get it all into words, usually a sign that I'm doing something right. I hope. Most of all I wanted to try to make this fic emotionally and sexually realistic (realistic for me, anyhow) because I'm sick of reading fics that are like Harlequin romance novels, with these perfect, happy love stories. Anyway, I hope someone can enjoy this. Oh, and one last thing, three particular Kings of Leon songs were absolutely invaluable in my writing of this: "Sex On Fire," "Use Somebody," and "Closer." So, if you're a Kings of Leon fan, maybe that will give you a good idea of the atmosphere I was going for here.

Normally I wouldn't even bother to reiterate this, but seeing as how I actually start this whole thing off with a sex scene, and because I'm posting it here rather than adultfanfiction, I feel kind of obligated to. This fic is rated M for language and strong sexuality.

Chapter One

Draco Malfoy stared up into the dark green eyes of the woman sitting astride him, watching her thick black hair falling in her face before she slowly, sensually shook her head to toss the hair aside. Her fingernails scraped down his pale, solidly muscled chest and he moaned deeply, throwing his head back against the pillow. The sounds escaping her lips were almost animalistic. He knew that meant that she was still trying to find the right pace, the right spot, the right angle. He didn't care at the moment because anything she did felt fucking great.

Elysia Waldgrave bit her lip so hard she thought she'd taste blood any second. She didn't, and that almost made her angrier. She literally growled. This wasn't working… She'd been fucking Draco for two years and by now they could practically read each other's minds. Sex had been perfected. Usually there was no struggle, usually everything was immediate, but today…it was just one of those days…

"Draco!" she cried fitfully, slamming her fists on his chest.

"Okay, okay…you need me on top?" he asked, his breath labored, sliding a hand through his messy hair.

"No…just…maybe if you move your legs a little…"

Elysia adjusted his legs so that his knees were closer to her back and she could lean against them, giving her more leverage and support. She readjusted her own legs and started her rhythm back up again.

"Uhhh…"

"Better?" Draco murmured thinly, his breath already gone.

"Yeah," Elysia breathed in reply. "Oh, god…"

Draco smiled, watching her face. He moaned and thrust his hips up to meet hers, quickly catching up to her pace.

"God…FUCK! Uhh…that's fucking perfect…" she moaned.

Draco slid his hands over her thighs, slipping one between them, his fingers immediately finding her clit, while his other hand moved up her body. Her back was arched, her hands anchored on his legs for support, her breasts moving beautifully as she fucked him, her head thrown back so far he could feel the tips of her long hair tickling his thighs.

"You close?" Draco asked, gasping for air.

"Yeah, you?"

Draco bit his lip and grunted in confirmation. A few more hard thrusts and he could feel Elysia's legs shaking just before he felt her tighten around his cock, screaming his name and making him come, digging his fingernails into her thighs as he did and letting out a loud, deep groan.

"Oh my fucking god," she sighed, collapsing onto his chest, her long hair spraying out around her.

Draco could say nothing, only take deep breaths and wrap his arms around Elysia, stroking her hair slowly with one hand. Elysia let her eyes close, promising herself she wouldn't fall asleep. She focused on matching Draco's breathing. After a while he stopped playing with her hair and simply lay his arms across her, one just below her arm and the other on her hip. She lay half on-top of him, one arm next to his body, between her and the bed, and the other across his chest. Even though she'd never been one for romance, these were precious moments. Even she, the supreme cynic, could not deny the way her body fit with Draco's, as though their bodies were each made for the other's. They fit together like a puzzle. At least in bed.

Elysia started fucking Draco when he was a fourth-year, she was a fifth. That was two years ago. She was his first. He wasn't her first and he wouldn't be her last, but he was certainly her most frequent. Now they shared a strange bond. Whether Draco felt it the same as she did or whether he thought it something more conventional, such as that horrid "l" word, she didn't know. It started simply because he was the only guy who had ever come back for seconds. Elysia wasn't sure how it happened but somehow her entire sexual history, save Draco, consisted of 'one night stands.' She had never had an honest-to-god boyfriend in her entire life, but Draco was about the closest thing. Draco seemed the only person in the entire world able to find her presence agreeable for longer than whatever length of time it took to fuck her. The only one to brave the labyrinth of her emotions and the enigma that was her very nature. She supposed, were she a different person, that could be grounds for love. As it were, nothing was grounds for love.

"Think we should get to lunch?" Draco asked amiably.

Elysia didn't care. The whole world could go fuck off and die, but Draco was the only person she would actually take the time to tell something other than what she really thought, if for nothing than the sake of tact. Anyone else, she couldn't be bothered to censor herself.

"I guess."

"Come on," Draco coaxed, a strange paternity coming out, as it usually did when he was around her.

Draco dressed while Elysia pulled the covers over her head. Draco lifted the sheet and ducked his head under, meeting her in her shelter. He climbed back on the bed to get close enough to kiss her.

"C'mon, let's go," he coaxed again, laughter lightening his deep voice.

Finally, he yanked the sheet off of her and helped her dress, the two stopping every few seconds for a kiss. Eventually the dreaded event of putting clothes back on, especially annoying with all the required layers of Hogwarts uniform, was complete and the two made their way down the stairs from the dorms, through the empty Slytherin common room, and toward the Great Hall.

* * *

When Elysia and Draco entered the Great Hall for what remained of the lunch period, they were greeted by an array of catcalls from the Slytherin table. Draco rolled his eyes but smirked nonetheless. Attention was attention to Draco, he would never discriminate when it came to being front and center. Elysia, however, looked as though she could very well kill the lot of them. Draco held back laughter when he saw Elysia take a place next to Pansy Parkinson. He adored her for the times when, even through her fierce rage and annoyance at her fellow students, she could still keep her sense of humor.

"All know where you two 'ave been," Pansy remarked, jealousy and resentment tainting her every syllable.

Elysia sat reversed in her seat, her back against the edge of the table and her elbows resting on it. She tilted her head back and inclined it slightly in Pansy's direction, no doubt for just long enough to give the girl a nasty look, before letting her gaze wander around the Hall.

"Yeah, I know, right? It's so surprising. We totally haven't been doing it for two goddamn years," Elysia drawled, sounding bored out of her mind.

Her words were dripping so much vitriol they even sent a shiver through Draco. His eyes ran over her body, stretched out across the bench and table. This, her usual sitting position, always looked to him as though she were constantly showcasing her body for him. He licked his lips and for a second forgot about reminding himself to watch the hurt wash over Pansy's face. The only thought on his mind now was that they never should have left the dorm because he just wanted to take Elysia again.

Partly because he vaguely remembered Pansy's presence and partly because Elysia was giving him a hard-on again, Draco slipped a hand to the back of Elysia's neck, his thumb brushing her earlobe as he tilted her head toward his and shoved his lips against hers, immediately slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Pansy murmured something that was probably an indication of anger, grabbing her plate from the table and storming off to sit with a group of Ravenclaw girls. Elysia and Draco parted to watch her walk off and revel slightly in their victory.

"Well, our work here is done," Elysia sighed, her voice flat as she went back to surveying the students in the Hall.

"You know you feel better," Draco coaxed, noting her lack of enthusiasm.

"I'll feel better when I finally get to kill that bitch," her voice still sounded bored.

"Jealous?" Draco teased.

"You haven't even fucked Parkinson yet. What is it that you propose I have to be jealous of? Her figure?" The tiniest of smirks pulled ever-so-slightly at the corner of Elysia's lips.

"Ah!" Draco pointed at the slight movement of her mouth.

Elysia rolled her eyes. "Stop, Draco," she sighed.

Draco leaned closer to her, his breath tickling her neck seductively, cupping her chin slightly and brushing the tip of his thumb along her jaw.

"Can you blame me, I want to see you smile?"

"You make me smile plenty, Draco. I think you'll live."

Draco dropped his hand away from her, sighing his resignation and scavenging the remains of food on the table.

"You should eat _something_."

"Is that concern, Draco?" Elysia mocked, still not looking at anyone in particular, her eyes roaming aimlessly with no target.

"From me? Never." Draco's sarcasm was disdainful and annoyed now rather than playful.

Draco never dealt well with a cold shoulder. Most of the time Elysia couldn't really make herself care. _She _never dealt well with clinginess or coddling. Suddenly her eyes found something remarkable. She cocked an eyebrow and nibbled slightly on her bottom lip. She rolled the idea around in her mind and decided that she liked it. Her eyes slowly appraised her target. No one could ever really size another up, covered in those damn robes, but nevertheless she liked what she saw. The boy she remembered had grown into an impressive man, there was no doubt. Just the size of his now-broad shoulders was beginning to turn her on, the thought of how the muscles would feel under her fingers. Not to mention his unruly but soft-looking black hair, his bright, almost unsettling eyes, his strong, squared jaw…Elysia crossed her legs hastily and fidgeted a little in her seat.

As usual, Draco sensed her shift in mood. He looked at her and she quickly shifted her gaze elsewhere. But Draco was too smart for that. He turned to take a look in the direction of her previous stare. And he did not at all like what he found. Draco suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to hit Elysia very hard, something he had never done before and she had never pushed him into feeling before.

"Potter?!" he hissed, "you're insane."

For the first time since they'd been in the Great Hall, Elysia looked Draco square in the eyes.

"I really don't think this has anything to do with you," Elysia informed him, clearly, calmly, and evenly, before standing and exiting the Hall.

Draco seethed, gritting his teeth so that his jaw clenched tightly. Were Elysia to see him she would have admired the way his rage made his features so poignant, his high cheekbones and angular jaw looking statuesque. Draco watched her leave the Hall, her infinitely confident stride and the way her robe fluttered behind her. He watched her until she disappeared beyond the large doors of the Hall and out of his sight. Then Draco turned his gaze to Potter, sitting with Granger and Weasley at the Gryffindor table. Draco's fury boiled to a level he could barely control. His relationship with Elysia had never been monogamous, nor had either of them ever fooled themselves into thinking it would be, but _Potter_... Anyone but him and Draco wouldn't give a damn. Draco would kill Potter before he let Elysia get to him. Hell, he'd kill _her _before he let her get to Potter. Draco knew Elysia well and he knew exactly what she was doing, and regardless of all the ways he knew she would brush off his concern, his jealousy, his possessiveness; Draco would do whatever it took to keep her away from Harry Potter.

* * *

"Harry!" Ron hissed with a strange urgency, interrupting Hermione mid-sentence, no longer listening to her long-winded rant concerning the homework she'd been assigned in Ancient Runes anyhow.

"Ron?" Harry replied, a twinge of a laugh in his voice. He, who, strangely enough, actually _had _been listening to Hermione's woes, gave her an apologetic look, which she shrugged off good-naturedly.

"Elysia Waldgrave is staring at you," Ron pressed, if possible, with even more urgency, retaining his whispery hiss.

"Who?" Harry started to turn to look behind him.

"Don't turn around!" Ron hissed again, almost angrily, grabbing Harry's arm.

Harry laughed awkwardly in bewilderment.

"He's right, Harry," Hermione confirmed, her voice disturbingly cautionary.

"Who are you _talking about_?" Harry asked, surprised by the sound of his friends' voices and tired of their vagueness.

"Elysia Waldgrave. She's a seventh-year from Slytherin. She has…quite a reputation, Harry. And not a very good one at that," Hermione informed him, still cautionary. "I'd advise you to be careful, should you ever come in contact with her."

Harry was about to ask how he could use Hermione's caution if he hadn't even seen what this girl looked like, but Ron's rebuttal trampled Harry's inquiry.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Ron snapped, seeming to have a different opinion of the girl in question. "I say you're lucky, Harry. Every guy at Hogwarts wants to do Elysia…"

"I'm sure most of them already have!"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, surprised at her bluntness. His voice betrayed a bit of a chuckle, seeming to indicate he approved of the uncharacteristic remark.

Harry rolled his eyes, curious and fed up with Ron and Hermione's exchanges. He finally turned around, not at all sure what to expect. What he saw was, well it was hard to truly know what she was. She was off-putting, to be sure, and at that moment almost stone-like in the way she was indeed staring at _him_. Her body was spread out across a space that could have seated maybe two more people, one on each side of her. Seated to her left was Draco Malfoy, a fact that for some reason suddenly didn't sit well with Harry, though he wasn't sure why.

Harry wouldn't have said that she was exactly beautiful, but pretty wasn't the right word either. Her beauty was slightly ambiguous, seeming to exist in details but never quite coming together into a striking whole. Her long black hair seemed almost exotic in its shaggy unkemptness and the somber, almost ominous expression on her delicate, pale features seemed to appeal to the darkest parts of Harry's…_soul_, he supposed. That seemed bizarre.

Before Harry had time to properly identify what he thought or felt of this mysterious girl, she raised an eyebrow suggestively, and gave him an equally suggestive smirk, before abruptly crossing her slightly spread legs and readjusting her posture. Then Malfoy suddenly turned to her, seeming to sense something. Elysia feinted like she'd been looking somewhere other than Harry's direction but Malfoy's eyes landed on Harry all the same. Harry watched pure rage surface in Malfoy's face and grey eyes. Harry watched Malfoy say something to Elysia angrily, which she countered with what looked like a very nasty and dismissive remark before standing and simply leaving the Great Hall.

"Wonder what that was all about?" Hermione wondered, still sounding cautious, as if these were two people they truly should not be speculating about.

"Maybe Malfoy's jealous," Ron suggested with the appropriate amount of glee in his voice. "He must've seen the way she was looking at you, Harry." Ron said this last bit with an extremely congratulatory tone.

"Is she…_with_ Malfoy?"

"Elysia's not _with_ anyone Harry, nor has she ever been from what I've heard. That's why you should be careful if she's got her sights set on you. She's not the type to want a boyfriend. You understand what I'm telling you, Harry?" Hermione asked, seeing that Harry's expression seemed preoccupied.

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione still looked terribly concerned, but said no more. Within minutes the Great Hall was emptying, all the students going on about the rest of their daily schedules. The trio exited the Hall with the rest of the student body and prepared to go their separate ways. Ron lingered with Harry while Hermione bid them both good-bye and rushed off to her next class.

"Tell me everything!" Ron insisted excitedly before parting with Harry for their respective classes.

Harry shrugged off Ron's excitement with a laugh and a shake of his head, truly not knowing what both his friends were so enthusiastic about, considering all this girl had done was look at him, and not even in a way any different from how many girls at Hogwarts looked at him. Harry was never the kind of person to think too long about anyone in a romantic sense, and this girl was no different, but he would admit to himself a strange foreboding somehow attached in his subconscious to her. But Harry shook it off easily and by the time he'd reached his class, there wasn't even a remnant of a memory of Elysia Waldgrave in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well I might be acting hasty in posting this and chapter 3 up, and they might be subject to some tweaking in the upcoming days, but I just wanted to get some new stuff up because my first chap doesn't really say much about the characters or what I'm going for here, and these chapters may not either, but...I just want some more reviews and I figure the best way to get that is to post something new.

Chapter Two

When Elysia entered the Slytherin common room that evening after dinner, it was to find Draco, nearly alone. Tonight he possessed that fire in his eyes that sent most anyone running. Only a few students; seventh years, or otherwise ones who knew Draco well enough to be aware of just how to remain in his presence during his _moods _and not suffer any harm at his hands, remained in the common room; granted, they all gave Draco a wide berth. Draco hadn't been in the Great Hall for dinner so Elysia could only assume he'd been here, brooding, for quite some time.

Elysia knew what was coming, and, while she was rarely in the mood to talk Draco down, she knew if she ignored him or continued to dismiss him the way she had at lunch today, he'd soon be uncontrollable. And Elysia had never met anyone who could turn the world upside down like Draco Malfoy. The list of various ways he would attempt to get his way was endless, and furthermore, the man was completely immoral. Something she'd always appreciated about him.

Draco was slumped on one of the black leather sofas, altogether in gorgeous disarray. His shirt was no longer tucked in and his tie hung loosely, sloppily around his neck. The top several buttons of his shirt were undone, along with the buttons at the cuffs, the sleeves rolled unevenly up his arms. His blond hair somewhat resembled the way it looked after a particularly vigorous bout of sex, no doubt from his fairly recently-developed habit of compulsively running his hands through his hair. This year Draco had little to no regard for his appearance and it seemed like almost every time Elysia saw him he was in some state of dishevelment.

But tonight she knew that his appearance was probably very well planned. Because Elysia was having a considerable time restraining herself from straddling Draco's lap and having her way with him in front of their tiny audience of three students sitting on the other side of the common room. Draco knew exactly how much he turned her on, knew exactly how devastatingly sexy he was, completely unkempt and with that angry fire burning in his grey eyes.

His eyes followed her as she threw her books to the floor and dug her cigarettes from her bag, extracting one from the pack and lighting it. She sat on the sofa opposite him and threw her feet up on the low table between the sofas. Draco rolled his wand slowly between his fingers, an action that spelled nothing but threat when coupled with the way his head was slightly lowered, his brow shading his eyes as he watched her. This was Draco. He knew how to attack from all sides simultaneously. If seduction wouldn't get him what he wanted, then terrorism would.

"Where've you been, then?"

"Well, let's see…I went to classes, then I went to dinner…oh, you know, kind of like I do every fucking day?" Elysia exhaled smoke. "Though I don't suppose you'd know anything about classes, considering I don't think I've seen you attend one all year."

Draco's eyes darkened significantly. He wouldn't even point out that Elysia knew everything that he'd been doing this year, that she knew full well about the assignment given him by the Dark Lord. He knew it didn't matter to her and it didn't exactly matter to him at this point either because when they fought like this they both used whatever ammunition was within reach, no matter how unrelated to the matter or out-of-context it may be within the argument.

"_Fucked_ Potter yet?" Draco sneered, his fingers momentarily closing around his wand and his knuckles immediately going white.

"For fuck's sake, Draco," Elysia sighed, moving from the sofa to sit on the edge of the coffee table, so that she was within touching distance of Draco. "I'm sorry about lunch, okay, is that what you want to hear?"

"I think you know what I want to hear, Elysia."

Elysia smirked and reached behind her to stub out her cigarette in a crowded ashtray.

"What d'you wanna hear, Draco?" Elysia whispered, feeling playful and deciding she'd rather tease him than sit around arguing.

She reached out toward him, sliding her hand along the inside of his leg, languidly moving from the table to the sofa. Kneeling on the sofa, she stretched her body toward him, continuing to stroke his thigh teasingly, and with her other hand toy with his hair.

"Do you…want me to tell you that I'll never fuck anybody else _ever again_?" Her voice was mocking and she knew she could easily push Draco to his breaking point, to the point where he would either hit her or fuck her.

Elysia moved her hand from Draco's thigh to his belt buckle, lingering a moment in misdirection just to see his tense reaction before moving under his shirt and sliding her fingers over his bare chest. She licked and bit at his ear and neck briefly.

"You want me to tell you that I love you," she derided, forming her lips into a pout. "Is that what you want?" she whispered softly, closer to his ear.

She could feel Draco's breath steadily quickening, knew the fire building inside him. While Draco's uncontrollable and sometimes unpredictable behavior was a turn on, Elysia also felt sorry for him. Poor little Draco had so many emotions inside him. Even in his third year, when she'd first met him, he was an unstoppable tempest of emotion. He hadn't changed much since then. And he still had no one. Elysia knew Draco would never be happy with a woman who simply yielded, even if she did offer comfort. Draco was too prone to boredom. So Draco pushed, and Elysia pushed back, even if Draco acted like he didn't like it. Elysia built him up, stoked the fire that was all those unresolved issues and psychological complexes, all those emotions, and then she was there, to let him release it.

Draco was still sitting motionless under her machinations, his breathing ragged and his pulse racing, Elysia could notice now that she was licking and sucking at his neck. Ready to go and growing increasingly impatient, Elysia dropped her hand from Draco's chest to grind her palm, through his pants, against his erection. This seemed to be the last straw, as Draco threw his wand on the table and grabbed her hair in one hand and her waist with the other, pushing his lips solidly and insistently against hers and pulling her body nearer his.

He kissed her fiercely and Elysia realized sharply what she'd always known. While everything was a game to her, nothing was a game to Draco. Everything was gravely realistic to him; everything held import and everything meant something. Draco stood and pulled her with him, abruptly breaking their kiss and spinning Elysia around so that her back was to him. He pushed her roughly back onto the couch and distantly, Elysia could hear the students sitting at the other side of the common room quickly scampering away up to the dorms. Unceremoniously and with a cold impatience, Draco pulled her panties down her legs. There seemed to be a silent threat of violence should she not cooperate with him, so she was helpful in the removal of the undergarment. As soon as the only part of her Draco truly needed at the moment was accessible, he knelt on the couch behind her. Elysia took a moment to make herself tolerably comfortable on the couch, now on her hands and knees, while Draco unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

Draco pushed himself into her harshly, and Elysia thought with a elderly sympathy of what he was trying to do. Establish dominance, fool himself into thinking he had control over something. The pace of his thrusts was rushed and desperate. They both knew he could never get off this way but they both also knew he had to dull the anger before anything else. It was simultaneously amusing and heart wrenching to Elysia, the way Draco tried so hard. Dominance and control and ownership and possession and all the things that Draco didn't truly understand, the things he didn't know how to achieve but tried so hard to do so. He was pathetic in it, but oddly endearing.

This kind of detached fucking never worked for Draco. Not with Elysia. This was all he could achieve with anyone else but with Elysia it always had to be more. And he hated that. He tried to distance himself, to push her away, to hurt her the way she hurt him. But nothing seemed to break down her walls and nothing even seemed to affect her at all. He wanted so badly to break her, to see her cry; or to give her something so amazing that it might make her love him. Anything; he just wanted to watch her feel, watch some kind of emotion overtake her. It was excruciating that he should feel so much and she so little.

He tried for as long as he could; but the rage drained from him quickly. As his pace slowed he felt tears sting in his eyes but he held them back. The anger threatened to rise again. Elysia pulled away from him, having stoically allowed him to do whatever he needed to express his anger, to try to feel power. These ideas meant nothing to her, but she would let him have them if that's what he needed. She turned toward him and pushed him back to a sitting position on the couch. She climbed atop him, guiding him inside her as she straddled his legs. Somehow it felt better now, now that he could see her face; see the pleasure of having him inside her wash over her face. And suddenly he felt at home inside the tight warmth of her. Felt as though he never wanted to leave. Draco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. She placated his emotions with a kiss, letting it be tender and what he needed, as he ran his fingers through her hair.

As they parted, she started a rhythm in earnest, riding him at a perfect pace, pushing his cock into her at just the right spot. Draco laid his head against the back of the couch. It pained him further, how easy it was, how they both knew the other's body so well. It would take little more than minutes for either of them to give the other the perfect orgasm, they had spent so much time exploring and perfecting techniques. The fact that either of them cared enough to learn so much about the other so intimately; how could that mean nothing?

"Draco," Elysia whispered concernedly, "you still with me?"

Draco lifted his head and nodded, sliding his hands under her shirt and over her back.

"Just focus on me. You'll feel better once you come," she told him, as if she were comforting someone who was deathly ill.

This hurt Draco even more, but he tried to push it all away; the doubt, the fear, that nagging feeling that constantly told him there was a part of him that was unbearably missing. He looked longingly into Elysia's green eyes, watched her face as an emotion that could have been love lingered there. It just didn't make sense. He pushed the feelings away once more.

"Draco…" she whispered his name heavily before tangling her fingers in his hair and placing her lips upon his.

He closed his eyes and put everything into their kiss, trying to forget everything, trying to feel only that which he wanted to feel. Elysia's pace never slowed as she kissed him, and he could feel the tension mounting unfalteringly. Her lips broke from his and she rode him harder, faster, tossing her hair out of her face as she arched her back. Draco leaned forward to embrace her tightly, his lips descending upon her throat and chest, pressing kisses that held the weight of his emotions onto her skin. He let out a soft growl as the tension broke inside him and surprisingly, they came simultaneously, Draco feeling Elysia tighten around him in seemingly the same instant that he released inside of her.

They remained entwined for what seemed like hours after, though Draco knew it was probably only a couple of minutes. Eventually Elysia stood, picking her panties from the floor and slipping them back on as Draco refastened his pants and belt. He looked up at her, feeling helpless, as she held out her hand to him. Time slowed as he hesitated, his mind unfocused, just staring at her hand.

"Come on, Draco. Let's go to bed," she coaxed him, her voice still retaining that gentle tone, as if handling something fragile.

Finally, he took her hand and he let her lead him upstairs to the boys' dormitory, where she climbed into bed with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

With a heavy sigh, Harry collapsed back onto a bench, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again to find that the scenery really was quite relaxing. The courtyard was open, rather than surrounded by corridors as many others were, and from where he sat he had a spectacular view of a particularly mountainous area of the school's grounds. The sun was just beginning to set and he sat in still silence for many minutes, watching the sky change colors.

The last few days had been rough. Harry's tumultuous feelings for Ginny had been rudely awoken. Ron was moodier by the day; lamenting his performance at Quidditch practices, inexplicably disturbed by Ginny and Dean's snogging session that they had - very regrettably - interrupted several nights ago (Harry could only attribute Ron's behavior to some kind of bizarre jealousy), and clashing with Hermione more than ever. Needless to say, Ron wasn't making Harry's life any easier. Harry had given peacekeeping an admirable attempt, but Ron's new-found pugnacity just wasn't easing up.

"Hey, Harry."

Harry jumped at the sudden voice that broke through his thoughts. It was soft and seductive and for a few horrifying seconds Harry's heart was pounding too loudly to let him hear anything, an unbelievable heat rose in his cheeks, and his vision went slightly blurry. She walked into his periphery; her dark hair and pale skin – given a faint glow by the moonlight – made her look ghostly. The smoke rising from her cigarette danced in the light breeze and seemed to wrap around her body lovingly.

"Hi," he finally managed to choke out. "Didn't think anyone was out here."

He looked up at her, standing just a couple feet away from him. He tried to double-check his memory to make sure this was truly the girl he had seen in the Great Hall a few weeks ago. There was something about her that felt so very different now. He tried to shake it off. Trick of the light.

"Hey, you're on _my _turf. I always come out here to smoke. This is the prettiest spot you can find without leaving the grounds. I'm Ely-"

"Elysia Waldgrave," Harry finished for her boldly, getting back his bearings.

She smiled, dragging on her cigarette.

"So they've told you about me."

Harry simply nodded. Elysia chuckled, looking thoroughly amused.

"Only the bad things, I hope," she said, jokingly congenial.

Harry found himself slightly distracted with the way she exhaled as she spoke; the smoke seeming to caress her lips as it escaped her mouth, the curly gray wisps rising slowly into the night air, lingering briefly in the breeze before dying. Harry jerked his head slightly to one side, trying to knock himself out of it without seeming obvious.

"_Warned_ me about you is more like it," he replied after a silent lapse.

"I see…" Elysia said, sounding like she was giving thought to his words. "Well, do you think you should heed their warnings?"

"Not much to it," he shrugged. "You don't seem too scary to me."

Elysia laughed heartily and sat down, uninvited and uncomfortably close to Harry.

"You wanna see how scary I can be?" she whispered, almost threateningly, her lips brushing against Harry's neck.

She laid a hand on Harry's chest, a hand which, very slowly, began to gravitate lower. Harry wouldn't deny that Elysia turned him on, albeit in a weird way that was probably driven mostly by mystery and curiosity, but it was impossible for him to focus on her advances. He couldn't help thinking of Ginny, that now-familiar savageness beginning to stir in him. At any given moment on any given day, Harry was carrying a thousand frustrations with him, frustrations over everything, and in a weighty moment of frightening realization, Harry wanted nothing more than to let Elysia help him with that. He could imagine how it might feel to let all that fall away, to let the world dwindle down to nothing more than sex. Maybe add some Firewhiskey to that equation. Let everything just drain away.

When Elysia pressed her lips to his, Harry thought that maybe he could _think _of Ginny. Just go for it all, pretending it was all with her. But the longer their lips lingered, the more certain he became that that would not work. He pushed Elysia away. If he couldn't have Ginny, or if he wouldn't be able to appreciate Elysia for what she was, want her for who she was, then he wouldn't have anyone at all. Strangely, Elysia seemed to understand this, or at least understand that he was conflicted.

"Offer still stands, Harry," she told him as she stood from the bench, "let me know when you change your mind."

Then she simply turned and walked away, her air as casual as if the entire exchange between them had been about as mentally taxing and physically stimulating as brushing her teeth. Harry tried to think long and hard about how he felt about that – the indifference. But he could have sat outside until the sun rose again and he still wouldn't have had a clear portrait of his emotions. The only thing he could feel very clearly was a fair amount of anger at her arrogance. The way she said '_when _you change your mind.' That made him feel extremely competitive and he rolled around the idea of seriously challenging her. He wondered if he could get under her seemingly apathetic exterior if he, from now on, showed no interest in her advances. Or maybe that wouldn't phase her at all. Maybe she really just didn't give a damn, about anything. The mystery didn't do much to make him _not _want her. He really shouldn't have cared, but suddenly he wanted to know things about her. Completely against his will, he was interested. He knew that probably meant that Elysia had accomplished exactly what she'd set out to do.

* * *

Having made her dramatic exit from Harry and leaving him to ponder his options, Elysia made her way to another of the castle's numerous courtyards. She lit a new cigarette using the still-smoldering filter of her previous one, then discarded the butt carelessly. She sat on a stone bench, wrapped her jacket around her body against the wind, and remembered, quite unable to stop the memories as she looked out over the grounds….

*

It was last year, the best and most satisfying year to break rules, the prime time for rebellion, with Umbridge having established a Fascist hold over the school and joyously doling out punishment with an iron fist. As the rules were more and more strictly enforced, it became more and more fun to break them. On that particular night, Draco and Elysia had taken brooms out, far beyond the school's grounds, setting down and making comfortable on a hilltop overlooking the sea. It was one of Elysia's final corruptions of the tough-talking but naïve Draco. One of his last first-times.

"Ech. You'll never get it that way, you know. You're smoking it like a cigarette. Hold it in," she instructed, barely containing her laughter as she watched the concentration on his face as he held the joint tentatively.

He took a good hit and dragged in a deep breath, holding it impressively before exhaling smoke in wracking coughs.

"Wonderful! That was perfect!" she cried laudingly as she greedily took the joint Draco shoved toward her, still coughing like mad.

Once Draco got the hang of taking a proper hit, the two of them shared the joint in silence, both letting themselves be swept away by their respective highs and looking out into the starry, moonlit night and the dark, abysmal ocean beyond their hill. Elysia stretched contentedly and laid back on the blanket they had spread over the grass, looking up at the stars. There were no city lights out here to obscure the brightness of the stars. It was so pure.

She watched Draco's face as he seemed to be coming to grips with the experience. It was quite entertaining. He looked content and happy one moment, grinning, but then occasionally he would look as though he were concentrating intensely on something, almost distractedly, and shake his head as if trying to clear his mind or otherwise jar it back into its customary routines.

"You're trying to fight it, aren't you? Trying to tell yourself that it's all normal? That surely all the clichés can't be true?"

Draco seemed to move in groggy slow-motion, turning to look at her. Obviously peering at her through the haze. He nodded slowly.

"Just let it be. You're not in control anymore," she told him matter-of-factly, with a random little giggle she suppressed easily, lest it get the best of her.

"But I like being in control…" he drawled cutely, stretching his body languidly across the distance between them and hovering over her for a moment before kissing her.

"I know you do, honey," she replied, just as cutely, when they had parted. "But there's just as much to be said for losing it."

Elysia stared up at Draco, suddenly being hit by the bizarre feeling of only now truly seeing him. Seeing him for the first time. Maybe the weed was warping her perception, or maybe it was opening Draco up and letting him show on the outside everything that was inside him, everything he usually hid under that mask of indifference. That phrase, a mask of indifference, it hit her very suddenly that she did the same thing. At that moment, in her mind, she and Draco could have been the same person, she saw them as being so alike. Looking at him, she suddenly wanted to cry, or scream, or something…he was so beautiful. The blackness of the night and the brightness of the moon and stars put shadows across the hollows of his face, his eyes and cheekbones, as if the night were leaving pieces of itself upon him. The paleness of his skin and hair struck a startling contrast to the darkness engulfing them. Looking at him, she was reminded of smoke. The way smoke danced and curled as it escaped the burning tip of a cigarette, seeming to flee to freedom into the still night air, white on black….

Elysia was still wrapping her mind around these ideas, linking thoughts together in strangled abstracts, as if her own consciousness had become a labyrinth and she was stumbling through it and trying to decide if she was enjoying herself in the quest for something unknown…when Draco leaned down to kiss her, the kind of kiss that meant more than a kiss. An initiating kiss.

As his lips caressed hers, his hands caressed her body, moving across her skin as if in worship, his fingers relieving her of any piece of clothing they happened upon. Time moved slowly, both of them seeming to feel and acknowledge the passing of every second as they each, almost _painstakingly_, removed the other's clothing. Every second left an imprint of the second before in its wake, like watching a film frame-by-frame. A tangible yet invisible electricity flowed between the naked flesh of their bodies, an exhilarating yet excruciating need that both knew could never be fulfilled. Everything internal seemed to be screaming to be made external, seemed to be screaming to be made one, absorbed into the other.

When Draco finally pushed inside her, Elysia seemed to feel him deeper than what could be possible. His thrusts sent shock waves through her, so intense she imagined them physically, washing over her entire body with every push, ebbing with every pull. Her fingers gripped tightly the muscled bicep of one of his arms, her other hand clawing at his back, trying to pull him down to her as he pulled slightly away so as to keep the rhythm of his thrusts.

After what felt like hours, Draco leaned down to her, kissing her and then rolling back so that she found herself sitting astride him. While Draco's pace had been quick, Elysia took up a slow and steady rhythm as she rode his cock, moving mostly back-and-forth rather than up-and-down, enjoying the feel of grinding against him, savoring it rather than rushing forward to final release. The volume of their respective moans competed; Elysia beginning to practically _writhe_ atop him, seeming to be lost in exploring the various angles at which he could penetrate her and the various internal places he could reach, and Draco simply watching her pale body, bathed in the moonlight, and running his hands across her abdomen and up to her firm breasts, squeezing them gently, teasing one nipple with his thumb.

Elysia began to tire, after another incalculable passage of time, and Draco rolled them back over, once again atop her. The pace of his thrusts was more determined than ever now, his release was now an overwhelming need. Elysia seemed to feel the same, for, as he slammed into her, she wrapped her legs high around his waist and drug her fingernails down his arms. She was almost completely unable to catch her breath with the way loud, ragged moans were pouring from her lips, as if the sounds were ripped from her.

"Oh, Draco…I'm coming…Draco!"

Even as her internal muscles constricted around him, Draco continued pounding into her. Not because he wasn't getting off, but because he felt a sudden and inexplicable surge of stamina; he felt as though he could go on forever…. But Elysia was still moaning his name, her voice thin through panting breaths, making it seem as though the utterance of his name had become as essential to her as breathing. And that, the way that his name fell so obsessively from Elysia's lips was what did him in, sent him hurtling over the edge and making his momentary idea of seemingly infinite stamina seem distant and laughable. Draco clutched at Elysia's soft thigh as he released inside of her, shouting his pleasure into the night with a kind of primal scream.

Draco collapsed upon her, adorably spent as he lay sprawled across her body, breathing heavily. Neither could speak for a long time. When the afterglow subsided and the comedown was inevitable, Elysia spoke.

"See? This is why we get high before we fuck."

Draco let out a little laugh but seemed to be lost in thought.

"You okay? Still with me?"

He raised his head from her chest now and looked at her, his eyes dark and enigmatic.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Good." She smiled.

They had both wanted to sleep on the hilltop that night, wishing perhaps that their wildest, most romantic dreams could come true after this unexpected awakening, but, of course, they dressed, flew the brooms back to the school, and arrived back in the common room, slipping into bed with only few hours left until the rest of the house would be waking.

*

Elysia's heart suddenly ached for Draco at the memories. She wanted to see him, touch him, hold him. She wanted to rush back to the common room, sneak into the boys' dormitory and crawl under the covers with Draco, and tangle her cold body up with his warm one. So that was exactly what she did. And for that night, her brief encounter with Harry seemed a lifetime away and, snuggled under the covers with Draco, she didn't even spare a single thought for Harry Potter.


End file.
